


Chasing Memories

by UppiePuppy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Coach Katsuki Yuuri, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Multi, Orphans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Siblings, Protective Yuri Plisetsky, World Figure Skating Championships, Yuri Plisetsky Is So Done, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-12-16 06:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UppiePuppy/pseuds/UppiePuppy
Summary: Savannah wants more than anything to get back up to her previous level as the female division world champion, but how can she do that when she has three small siblings to take care of? One day, as she teaches a small class of little kids how to skate, she runs into an old friend, though neither recognizes the other. She stays after hours and begins to skate, conveying all of her emotions into her dancing. Little did she know, three world champions had wanted to use the rink after. She leaves without noticing them and walks home, unaware that a ghost of the past has followed her. A few weeks passes, in which team she notices strange things happening around her home. Small things of course, a plate of pirozhki appearing on her doorstep, that damned window getting repaired, Elena talking about a blonde-haired stranger who brought Alexei home when he strayed too far from the door. She is approached one day on the ice by a Japanese man looking for a student, and he’s offered to train her, but she will have to drop her other jobs to do so. Will it be worth it?





	1. Savannah Rose Collins

**Author's Note:**

> So...  
> I chose without you guys.  
> Oops  
> I really liked this idea, and I'd already had a poll up for two weeks on my FFN and got ONE vote for this story, so...  
> (Hopefully) Weekly updates on Sundays!

The room around me is dark and quiet. The red numbers on my alarm clock glare at me angrily through the black, announcing that it is long time to get up and start my day, and yet I ignore them, staring into the shadows and listening to the sounds of breathing around me. The bed dips on my left side from the weight of a smaller person, and an even smaller one is clutched in my arms, nuzzling his face into my chest and letting out a soft sigh of contentment. My alarm blares again, as a warning this time, telling me that I  _ must  _ get up, lest I be late for work at the local ice rink. Slowly, slowly, I sit up, gently untangling the small boy from my arms and lowering him to the bed. I stand and hold my arms out, as is routine by now, beginning to wave them around in search of light. But before I can take two steps into the uninviting darkness, I trip on a small toy car that I had been unable to see. 

“Shit,” I hiss. I grab the offending toy and throw it out into the hall, continuing my search for the light switch. Within moments, dim, flickering light floods the room, and I sigh, reaching up to rub my eyes, trying to wake up further. I look over my shoulder at the single large bed in the corner. 

Elena, the oldest after me, is sprawled across the bed, with her long black hair spread behind her like a mane. Her dark brown eyes are closed, and she looks more relaxed in sleep than she ever does during the day. In her arms is a small bundle, where I can see the youngest sister, Aisha.

The three year old is nestled closely to her big sister, swathed in multiple blankets to protect her from the Russian cold. It may be July, but it is still too cold for a small child to be exposed to at night. Aisha is a redhead, like me, but I notice that her large green eyes are open and gazing up at me. She has been awake for a while.

Than there’s the little teddy bear who slept in my arms. Alexandrovic is 5 years old and as welcoming and warm as the roaring fire in the living room. His brown hair is mussed from sleep, and his mouth hangs open slightly, allowing some drool to dribble down his cheek and onto the sheets below him. 

That leaves me. My name is Savannah Collins. I am sixteen years old, and I have dark red hair and icy blue eyes. I am an orphan, but then, so are my siblings. The four of us have been living on our own for nearly three years now, and somehow, we’ve survived.

I smile fondly at my small family and grab my outfit off of the doorknob as I walk to the bathroom across the hall. Our tiny apartment is made entirely of snow, and it is mostly underground, which provides a bit of protection from the city sounds, but the walls remain constantly frozen, leaving us to have a fire lit at all times. Still, the rent is cheap, and it puts a roof over our heads, which is all I can ask. I quickly change into my skating clothes and pack my bag. It may be Saturday, but I don’t get a break from work. As I adjust my makeup and hair in our mirror, I reflect on what our lives were like before the fire. Before the death of our parents. Before I had to work three jobs to keep food on our table and walls around us. 

Only minutes later, I am dressed and ready to go, and I cross the hall one last time to wake up Elena. The twelve-year-old scrunches up her face and grunts as I gently shake her shoulder

“Elena, love, it’s time to get up now,” I say softly. Elena blinks open her eyes and glares at me when I send her a gentle smile.

“I don’t want to get up,” she whines. I grin and brush a bit of hair out of her face.

“I know, but Aisha will be very hungry soon, and Sacha will wake in a few moments time. I need to go to work now okay? I’ll be at the rink until ten o’clock tonight.” I straighten up and pick up my skating bag after pressing a quick kiss to the Elena’s forehead, to which she protests loudly. “See you later, little sister.” With a quick wave, I rush out of the apartment. The St. Petersburg Central Ice Accord Center is only two blocks away from our home, and I run all the way there, managing to just make it on time. I punch my timecard and then slip behind the counter to open the register and log onto the employee computer. I sigh and look through the glass longingly. The lights above the rink make the ice shine softly, and I can feel an ache in my heart, tugging me out onto the ice. To hear the soft sounds of my blades gliding over the slippery floor, to feel the power as I glide over the unforgiving surface…

I am ripped from my thoughts as I hear someone clear their throat in annoyance. I smile pleasantly at a young girl- probably in her teens -and her mother.

“Good morning! How can I help you today?” I ask cheerfully. The mother grins at me. 

“Two all day passes and skate rentals, please,” she says.

“Of course! That will be seven hundred and seventeen rubles, please.” I pull a stamp toward me and press the ink onto the back of the teen’s hand as her mother gets the money. As soon as she’s paid and stamped, I lead the two over to another counter, where I ask their sizes and get their skates down from the shelves. The teen flips her hair over her shoulder and struts away, leaving her mother to follow. I go back to my chair and sit down, starting to spin in circles when boredom creeps into my head. I kick my feet back and forth as the room around me turns to a blur. No one else will be here for a while, unless there’s a competition this weekend, in which case several people will come here to practice. Still, the rink remains quiet except for the small chatter and the scraping sounds coming from the pair on the ice. I stop spinning long enough to grab my phone from my bag and turn on some music. An older pop song comes on, and I start to softly sing along, bobbing my head along to the beat as I spin in my chair. Another three songs pass before I hear someone clear their throat impatiently, and I stick out my leg to stop the chair. It slams against the desk with a bang, surely giving me a bruise, but I don’t react, smiling up at the three men who stand in front of my counter. The one in front is a tall man with platinum hair who returns my smile without batting an eye. Behind him stands a nervous-looking Japanese man, and in the very back, a blonde teen who is glaring at his phone with malice.

“Hello!” The man in front lifts his hand in a wave, giving me a wide, heart-shaped smile.

“Hi! How can I help you gentlemen today?” I ask. The man holds up three passes and I take them from him swiftly.

“We just need to be admitted for today,” he says. I nod and pull out my scanner. “My name is Viktor. What’s yours?” I look away from my computer screen for a moment. 

“I’m Savannah, sir,” I say. I turn back to the program and start to enter the information for the first pass when he interrupts again.

“You look very familiar Savannah. Is there anywhere we could have met before?” 

I laugh. “Most likely. Do you come here often? Or do you go to the Starbucks down the street at all?” 

“My Yuuri here likes to go to the Starbucks, and I go with him sometimes?” Viktor phrases the sentence more like a question. I laugh again.

“That’s probably it then. I’m a barista down there,” I say, switching to the second pass. “Does that mean I’m correct in assuming that this is your first time at this rink?” 

Viktor nods. “Yes, you are. Though we may switch this to our home rink soon.” 

I look up at him in surprise. “Are you a professional skater?” I ask excitedly. The teen in the back scoffs and rolls his eyes, sending a glare up at me. I smirk at him and shift my attention back to Viktor. 

“You can say that. We’re figure skaters, the three of us.” 

I gasp. “Really? Oh my God!” Realization dawns on me. “Oh, I’m so stupid! You’re Viktor Nikiforov, aren’t you?” 

Viktor laughs. “Don’t worry! You’re not stupid. Though I must ask, if you’re a fan, how did you not recognize me?” 

I move to the third pass. “Ah. I’m more of a Yuri’s Angel at heart. Never really paid attention to the senior division.” The teen in the back stiffens slightly at my words. “I haven’t really been able to follow the skating world for the past… two seasons?” I frown as I try to remember, my fingers hovering over the keys as I think. “The last performance of yours I saw was Stammi Vicino at the Grand Prix Finals. It was beautiful, by the way.” 

Viktor grins. “Thank you!” he says. He starts to continue, but the Japanese man next to him interrupts. 

“Why haven’t you been able to follow the seasons?” he asks with a frown. 

I freeze. Sadness and anger blossoms in my chest while I try to come up with an excuse. Finally, I shrug as nonchalantly as I can past the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. “Just… haven’t had the time, I guess.” I hand Viktor the passes. “Here you are. Enjoy your day on the ice,” I say quietly. The two men glance at each other, and even the boy in the back looks up curiously. I stand and go to the skate rental section, hiding in the shelves until I hear them retreat. I clutch at a shelf until my knuckles are white and force myself to calm down. It’s not his fault. He couldn’t have known. He was much too old to be in the same division as you. I pound my fist against the wall once and then step out with a large smile on my face, ready to greet the next few people.

The next few hours pass slowly, only a few people coming to check in for about an hour before they inevitably return their skates and leave. As soon as noon comes, though, the next person comes to take their shift behind the counter and I go into the break room to pull on my skates and gloves. I look in the mirror and nod, walking out to the rink quickly. I take off my skate guards and set them on a small shelf in my miniature classroom. I step onto the ice and sigh, grinning as I began to make lazy circles around the rink. There aren’t many people on the ice right now. Just Viktor and his two friends, three small children, one teen girl, and me, so I dare to be bold and start speeding around the rink, passing people in a blur. Finally, once I’ve gained enough speed, I jump into a combination jump. Triple axel, single flip, double toe loop. I gently skate out of the last jump and turn to face the little boy behind me.

“Boo!” 

The little boy squeals with laughter and the other two kids skate shakily over to me. “Savannah! Savannah, look!” the little girl squeaks. I laugh and reach out to take her hands. 

“Good job Anastasiya! That’s fantastic!” Right on cue, she slips on falls right onto her rear end. She looks up at me with a pout as I gently pull her back up. “Alright, guys, let’s take a few laps, okay?” The three cheer and set off slowly around the ice. As I follow slowly behind them, I take a moment to glance at the three skaters. Viktor is lecturing the teen on something, waving his hands for emphasis, and the other man is skating into what I recognize as a quad flip. I watch him land it with a slight ache in my chest.

“Anya? Are you okay?” I shake out of my thoughts and smile softly at Petya.

“Of course I am,  _ milaya _ ,” I say. Petya frowns and reaches for my hand. I take it gently, and we skate after Anastasiya and Leonid, who have gotten a bit ahead of us at this point. Once we have completed at least three laps of the rink, I lead the children into the middle of the ice and start to teach them fishies, little wiggles backwards. After Leonid’s third failed attempt, I skate behind him and lean down to take his hands, guiding him through the motions myself. Petya shouts words of encouragement as I let go and skate away slightly, and all three of us cheer when he makes it at least a little bit of distance before falling. As I skate over to help him up, I notice the Japanese man watching me curiously as the teenage boy attempts a quad.

“Do a spin!” Leonid suddenly demands. I tear my glare away from the man and look at the six-year-old. 

“What?” I ask.

“Do a spin!” he repeats. The three take up a chant. “Do a spin! Do a spin!” At this point, the other people in the rink have all turned to watch, intrigued by the children’s shouts. 

I laugh. “Which spin do you want, guys?” 

Anastasiya answers me eagerly. “Th-the one with the- with the leg!” She breaks off, confused by her own words, but I laugh again.

“Don’t worry, I know the one.” I skate away to pick up speed, and when I get to the middle of the ice I clip my skates together, launching into a jump that lands in a camel spin, which I progress into a perfect biellmann spin before falling into a sit spin and standing. I come to a stop and bow to the children, who are cheering excitedly and applauding. Anastasiya skates toward me and clutches my legs, the other two following close behind her. As I grin down at them, I feel a pair of eyes on me and turn to see all three of the figure skaters watching me interact with the kids. The smile falls from my face and my blood turns to ice as I see the calculating look Viktor is sending my way. I scowl and turn away from them, giving my attention back to the children.”Alright guys, give a few more laps, okay?” The three nod and take off, and I move to the side of the rink to watch them, leaning against the wall casually as I take a drink from my water bottle. 

“Excuse me? Savannah?” 

I look to my left. The Japanese man has skated over and is hovering near me with a small smile. “What do you want?” I ask coldly, turning away from him to watch the children again.

“Sorry to disturb, I just… You used to be a figure skater, didn’t you?” he asks timidly, skating a little bit closer. I tense. 

“Hardly,” I hiss. The man flinches back a bit.

“Is that why you haven’t followed the skating seasons? Because you can’t compete?” I turn to glare at the man, noticing a slightly challenging gleam in his eyes. 

“I haven’t followed the last two seasons because it hurts to watch them. Not because I’m bitter, but because I was forced  _ out  _ of the competitions by forces I couldn’t control,” I say angrily. “Now if you would kindly get your nose  _ out of my business,  _ I would very much appreciate it.” I send him one last withering glare and skate away, heading toward my students. Petya looks up and sees me coming, holding out his hands and making a grabbing motion as a silent request for help. I scoop him into my arms and make a lazy circle on the ice. Anastasiya points toward the gate, where her mother stands, waiting for our class to end. I take her hand and feel Leonid grab my leggings. Slowly and carefully, I take the three children over to the gate and hand Anastasiya off to her mom. I set Petya on solid ground and help Leonid step over the guard and onto the concrete. As soon as the two boys are picked up by their mom’s, I begin to skate laps, waiting for my next class to arrive. 

“Hey!” 

I send a glance over my shoulder, rolling my eyes when I see the teen figure skater. 

“What?” I turn back to my laps, leaving him behind me. Or so I thought.

“What did the pig want with you, huh?” he asks, skating up to my side and keeping pace with me. I scowl.

“Poking his nose where he shouldn’t,” I say. “Why? Do you want me to tell you what I told him?” 

The boy rolls his eyes and glares at me. “I don’t care whether you can do a spin or not. It’s not like we would compete against each other anyway,” he says, annoyance clear in his tone. Reluctantly, I give a wry smile.

“Feisty little kitten, aren’t you?” Before he can snap back the retort I see forming on his tongue, I continue. “So if you aren’t here to find out about my sad past, then why  _ are  _ you here?” I ask. The boy looks at me for a moment, as if calculating the best way to go about saying what’s on his mind.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits. I raise an eyebrow at him, and he sighs with another roll of his sea-green eyes. “The pig is working on my choreography with the old man, and I’m supposed to do laps while I wait. I don’t know,” he repeats quietly. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you. I don’t usually, but you’re just… familiar. Safe.” 

I stare at him. “What, because I smile at a couple of kids? Because I’ll have you know- That’s my job,” I say quietly. 

“No. I couldn’t care less about anybody smiling at a kid,” he says. Well, at least he’s honest. “I feel like I’ve met you before, and… just…” He trails off with a shrug of his shoulders, and I grin at him softly. 

“Don’t worry. I get it. I feel the same about you,” I say quietly. I notice with satisfaction that the corners of his mouth twitch upward in a seemingly involuntary action. “Don’t go trying to woo me, now. I’ll have you know that I’m not interested in finding love today.” I smirk and speedily skate away before my words can catch up to him. I hear him shout at me, and I know he is giving chase, but Viktor calls for him and he groans loudly. I turn and start to skate backwards, saluting him cheekily. He glares at me as he skates to his coaches side.

The rest of the day passes quickly, and soon enough it’s nine o’clock and the rink is closing. I have permission to stay after as long as I want, though, so I quickly re-lace my skates and head out onto the ice with my phone and speakers. I plug the speakers in and set them on the wall before taking off over the ice. I come to a stop in the middle and hesitate. 

“How did he…” I trail off and concentrate, skating into position for a jump. I launch into the air and shakily land on my right foot. I grin. My first ever quad flip. I practice it at least another four times before I deem it satisfactory and skate over to my phone again. I select my playlist for skating and set it on shuffle, skating back out into the middle of the rink before it starts. Derniere Danse turns on, and I take off with little fishies backwards, I move into the step sequence quickly. 

This song was one of my old routines, from my very first season on the ice. I land a triple axel right on beat with the music, as a great surge of volume leads into the chorus. I skate backwards, throwing myself into a spin combination when the lyrics vanish. I come out of it and immediately skate into a quad salchow, double toe loop, triple flip combination. I skate backwards again, pulling my hands into my chest from every direction I can think of. I make a loop, leaning backwards with a hand pressed to my forehead dramatically. My hair flies around me and I enter a flying sit spin, and then the music is over, with me in my finishing pose and the final strains of music echoing hauntingly around the rink. I stand, panting, just as the next song starts. I laugh. Of all the programs, it had to be one of Yuri’s?

The familiar bass line begins, and I move into a complex step sequence that took me weeks to learn, but is now as much a part of me as my arms and legs. I jump into a quad salchow, landing just as the electric guitars enter the song before moving back into the step sequence. I pull my leg up behind me in a Biellmann spin as the beginning lyrics leave the speakers and lose myself in the routine. 

I relish the feeling of gliding over the ice. I revel in the weightlessness that comes from my jumps. I savor the biting wind sweeping over my skin. The sounds of the blades cutting into the ice give me chills before the I misstep on a jump and crash to the ground. Pain bites up my shoulder, but I pay it no mind and jump back up, rushing back into the routine. I smirk at the memories that come with that particular jump. 

It was always a competition between Yuri and I to see who could do the best jumps. He won with the salchow, but when we were fourteen, he had learned only that and the toe loop. I had learned the salchow, toe loop, and lutz, so he reluctantly conceded defeat. He won in nearly every other aspect of skating though. He almost never tripped up with step sequences, but one that took him a few hours to learn would take me a few days and a new collection of bruises. We had fun, though, comparing scores and critiquing each other’s performances, and in the off season we would teach each other our routines. But when my parents died, I’d had to leave the world of skating behind to take care of my siblings, and that had included my friends and coach. 

I focus on the routine again just as the last chord is struck. I stand there, gasping for air, for just a few moments before I collapse onto the ice and press my face to the cool surface. The next track is playing, and I roll onto my back to listen to it. 

It’s the audio of one of my old performances. 

“And here we have Savannah Collins, representing Russia in the Junior Worlds! Savannah is 14 years old and says she loves to skate because it gives her a feeling of power. In her short program today, she will attempt four triples.” The song comes through the speaker, soft and gentle, slowly picking up pace until it evolves into drums and guitar instead of the delicate piano it had been before. I feel tears gathering in my eyes, and I quickly get up and turn it off, skipping to the next track without a thought. The soft notes of Heaven by Troye Sivan float through the air, and I smile. This is a routine I had been working on for my third season- my senior debut -but had to drop. I skate into the routine, trying to convey all of my emotion into the gentle motions of my arms and the softer, lighter way that I jump and spin. 

_ “Without losing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven? Without changing a part of me, how do I get to heaven?”  _ I jump into a triple-single-double combination and land in a spin for a few measures, coming back up for a step sequence in time for the second verse.

_ “The truth runs wild, like the rain to the sea. Trying to set straight the lines that I trace to find some relief.”  _ The tears are back, cutting trails into my cheeks as I think of what could have been.  _ “This voice inside, has been eating at me. Trying to embrace the picture I paint to color me free.”  _ I land a triple axel right on the beat and enter a beautiful sequence of spins as the music reaches the bridge. As the music suddenly fades to a pianissimo, I skate gently back to the center of the rink and into my final pose, baring myself open for all to see. I skate back to the wall as Antique Gucci begins to play and pull of my blouse so that I’m in nothing but my sports bra and my leggings. I reach up and trace my choker as I drink from my water bottle. After resting for the duration of the song, I begin lazy laps around the rink and then into the center again. The next song starts, and I stare at my speaker in confusion for a moment before skating over and pausing the music. I rewind to the beginning, but hesitate. 

“I don’t even have a program for this music. I must have saved it in the wrong playlist,” I say to myself quietly. Nevertheless, I reluctantly press play and skate to the middle of the ice. A few beats pass before the music starts, and when it does, I don’t begin to skate immediately.

_ “Two A.M., where do I begin? Crying off my face again.”  _ I move backwards, moving my arms in a way that conveys the emotions of the song. I jump into a combination as the chorus begins. Quad flip, double loop, triple lutz.

_ “Dancing slowly in an empty room. Can the lonely take the place of you?”  _ I take a deep, shuddering breath, tears pricking my eyes once again and I start to spin across the ice, entering an improvised step sequence that keeps me at an unrelenting pace. The room is a blur- from the tears or the speed at which I move, I am unsure. I throw my arms out and skate backwards, leaning into the motion desperately, as if trying to pull someone with me who is not there. The third verse comes, and I move even faster, sure that I don’t even have any choreography going at this point. That I am only moving across the ice. The song ends, and I curl in on myself as a final position, holding my fists to my chest as I heave for breath. I cough from the rawness of my throat and fall to my hands and knees as it turns into a fit. I’ve pushed myself too hard today, but it was worth it to get even a semblance of the euphoria that comes with the competition. I sit on the ice, holding myself up with one shaky arm as another song begins to play. The minutes pass, the quiet letting my heartbeat slow down slightly. 

“Anya?” 

I whip around. Alexandrovic is standing at the gate to the rink, tears on his cheeks and mismatching gloves. I gasp and jump to my feet. “Sacha! What are you doing here?” I speed over to my little brother and drop to my knees, wiping his tears quickly so that I can pull him into a hug. “Where’s Elena?” I ask him. The trembling boy pulls back and looks down at the ground. 

“She hurt her knee, and I was scared because you said you would be back a long time ago, so I came to get you,” he whimpers. He looks up at me with tear still swimming in his leaf green eyes. “I just wanted to help.” I pull him into another hug and shush him softly.

“Oh,  _ dorogaya,” _ I say. “I know you were trying to help, but you know the rules. You’re not allowed to leave home unless Elena or I are with you, right?” I feel him nod against my shoulder and continue. “You know why we have those rules, Sacha. You could get hurt, and that wouldn’t have helped very much, hm?” He shakes his head, and I pull back and press a kiss to his forehead. “Stay right here, okay?” I stand and skate to get my phone and speakers quickly. I lead Alexandrovic away from the rink and sit him down on a bench in the bleachers while I take off my skates. 

“Anya, when are we getting more food?” he asks quietly. 

I look at him in confusion. “What do you mean, Sacha? Didn’t you eat today?” Alexandrovic nods, but looks at the ground. 

“Elena didn’t,” he says. 

I look at him in alarm. “Why didn’t she? We had food left, right? Why didn’t she eat some?” 

“We only had one apple left, and she gave it to me and Aisha.” He looks at me in concern. “Anya, did  _ you _ have food today?” 

I sigh and shake my head. “No, I haven’t had anything to eat today, Sacha. But I’ll give my dinner to Elena if it makes you feel better, okay?” 

The little boy shakes his head. “What about you? You need food, too. You didn’t eat yesterday either!” He sounds almost hysterical now. In truth, it’s been nearly a week since I’ve eaten anything, but I try to hide it for my brother’s sake.

“It’s okay,  _ dorogaya, _ I’m a big girl, remember? I don’t need as much food as you do. And if Elena’s knee is going to get better, she needs to eat up, right?” I tuck my skates into my bag and pull out a surprise.

“I guess,” he says quietly.

“Cheer up, Sacha. I got a treat for us,” I say, holding up the candy bar. Alexandrovic’s eyes widen, and he reaches for it eagerly. 

“What is it?” he asks.

I smile at him. “It’s  _ Alenka,”  _ I say. “It’s chocolate.”

He looks at me curiously. “What’s that?” he asks.

I laugh. “It’s very good. It’s a kind of candy. If you leave it on your tongue, it melts into a sweet syrup, and if you put some in a cup of warm milk, it makes hot chocolate.” The boy looks humbled by this knowledge. 

“Really?” he asks. 

I nod and put on my most serious face. “Really, really,” I say. 

He looks up, excited. “Can we eat it now?” he chirps. 

I laugh again and take the candy bar back, slipping it into the pocket on my bag. “No. We have to go home first, remember? Elena and Aisha will want some, too,” I remind him. He jumps to his feet and hops down the bleachers one bench at a time.

“Let’s go!” he calls. I laugh and follow him, gripping his hand tightly at the bottom, and leading him out into the night.


	2. Unexpected Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS
> 
> Okay, I know I'm horrible. So, uh, have a 10,000 word update for my taking so long? I tried explaining some things in here, but I don't know how good I did. And yes, I know Female Skaters can't do quads, but this is my universe, I'll do what I want. And in this universe- it's not uncommon. Okay?
> 
> Now for a real question-
> 
> Pichimetti or Seungchu-chu? It's your choice, and I'll include whichever gets the most votes.

I sigh in relief as the last person leaves the ice, leaving only the three of us on it's shining surface. Our passes as pro figure skaters allow us to stay in the rink until eleven, when we have to lock up and leave. That gives us two hours on the ice without interruption.

"Yuri," Viktor calls. I roll my eyes and exit the ice. The platinum haired man leads us into the bleachers, where there is a small alcove that hides us from the views of any stragglers. "Your short program is nearly solid, so we need to start working on your free skate. Is there anything you have in mind?" I lean back in the bench and tap my foot on the ground.

"Keep in mind that your theme is 'Vengeance'," Yuuri reminds me. I pull my phone out of my bag and pull up a song, handing it to Viktor, who puts in the earbuds and presses play. I watch his expressions as he listens to the song, and while he seems intrigued, it doesn't seem that he likes the music very much. I had barely convinced him to agree to my short program music, which he had deemed too heavy for figure skating. The music ends and he pulls the earbuds out of his ears and hands them to Yuuri.

"Are you absolutely sure about this piece? There's only one real way to skate a song like this, and it's very intense," he warns. I nod with a grunt of affirmation. Yuuri finishes the song and hands the phone back to me.

"He's right, Yurio. This will be a very intense skate. Are you absolutely sure? You have to remember your limits," he says.

"Yes, I'm sure, okay? I'm not going to pick some sissy piano piece for this theme." I tuck my phone in my bag again, pretending I don't notice the way that Viktor purses his lips. I start to stand, but a quiet voice suddenly reaches my ears, and I look to the ice. The girl from the counter is standing in the middle of the ice, facing our direction and frowning at the ground.

"How did he…" she trails off and shifts her feet, spinning in a tight circle. I narrow my eyes and watch curiously as she starts to skate, picking up speed as she goes around the edges of the rink, a look of intense concentration on her face. Behind me, Yuuri and Viktor have stood and moved forward to watch as well. My eyes suddenly widen as she gets in position for a flip and jumps. The landing is shaky, but she sticks it with a satisfied smirk.

"Oh my God," Viktor breathes. Yuuri has brought his hand up and covered his mouth in awe, and my jaw has dropped. She tries again and again. Finally, on the fifth attempt, she lands the jump perfectly and pauses, grinning. With a quick motion, she skates over to the wall of the rink and presses a few spots on the screen of her phone. Suddenly, a very familiar beat floods the rink, and I slowly turn toward Viktor.

"What did you say her name was?" I ask quietly. Viktor is watching her intensely, critiquing the program, probably.

"Uh… Savannah," he says. Recognition dawns on me as I watch her skate the program. There's only one Savannah I know who could skate this program so flawlessly. I watch as she skates into a quad salchow, double toe loop, triple flip combination and lands them all easily. A smile of exhilaration lights up her face as she moves into a step sequence. I feel a grin beginning to stretch over my face.

"That's her," I whisper. I begin to move out of the alcove, but Yuuri places a hand on my shoulder to keep me in place.

"Leave her be," he says. "I want to see what she can do when she thinks no one's watching." Subtly, Viktor has raised his phone and begun to record the girl. I turn back and watch as she finishes her skate, throwing her right arm around her stomach and her left over her head. I step back in surprise when she laughs as the next song comes on- Animal I Have Become. Does she still remember that routine? Apparently, she does, and she throws everything she has into the skating, carrying a huge smile through the whole song. She moves into a quad-single-double combination, but something goes wrong on the last jump, and she crashes to the ice. I wince, knowing the sensation all too well, but she jumps up and continues as if nothing happened. She seems to get lost in thought, her jumps and spins becoming a bit sloppier. I shake my head.

That was what her old coach had always warned her about. When she starts thinking, as she does often, she stops focusing on the program, which causes it to go wrong. The program ends, and she drops onto the ice, chest heaving. I look at Viktor, but he is still recording, so I return to watching her. This feels wrong, somehow. The next track comes through the speaker, the sounds of applause and cheering this time.

 _"And here we have Savannah Collins, representing Russia in the Junior Worlds! Savannah is 14 years old and says she loves to skate because it gives her a feeling of power. In her short program today, she will attempt four triples."_  The song comes through the speaker, soft and gentle, slowly picking up pace until it evolves into drums and guitar instead of the delicate piano it had been before. My eyes widen as Savannah practically flies to the speakers and stops the track from going any further. She pauses and takes a deep breath, but perks up when another song begins.

"What song is this?" Yuuri asks as Savannah skates into the routine.

"Heaven," I say softly. "She was choreographing this for her senior debut. That's when she vanished off the face of the Earth." Yuuri's grip on my shoulder tightens, seemingly realizing that I used to know her.

 _"Without losing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven? Without changing a part of me, how do I get to heaven?"_  She jumps into a triple-single-double combination and lands in a spin for a few measures, coming back up for a step sequence in time for the second verse.

 _"The truth runs wild, like the rain to the sea. Trying to set straight the lines that I trace to find some relief."_  Tears are cutting trails down her cheeks as she skates.  _"This voice inside, has been eating at me. Trying to embrace the picture I paint to color me free."_  She lands a triple axel right on the beat and enters a beautiful sequence of spins as the music reaches the bridge. When the music suddenly fades to a pianissimo, she skates gently back to the center of the rink and into her final pose, baring herself open for all to see. I can see her fighting for air as she skates back to the wall and takes huge gulps of water. Antique Gucci comes on, and I smile.

"Isn't this the song she used when she won the Grand Prix two or three years ago?" Viktor asks quietly. I nod and wait for her to start the routine, but she stays at the wall for a few minutes. With a cautious glance around the rink and a deep breath, she grabs the hem of her sapphire blue blouse and pulls it over her head, shaking her hair out behind her.

I tense when I see her physique, and Yuuri gasps in horror.

When I had known her at age fourteen, she had been healthy and muscular, with a body shape that promised attractive curves and elegant features. Now, though, her skin is stretched over her torso so I can see every single one of her ribs, and when she turns I can see her spine through the skin. Despite this, she has an obvious six pack and plenty of muscle in her legs and arms. She starts some laps, and as she gets closer I can see a pale, knotted scar at the bottom of her ribcage. She skates into the middle of the ice again and lowers her head in a beginning pose as the song ends, and I watch her curiously. The next song comes on, and she doesn't start skating, looking up in confusion instead and slowly skating over to the speaker again. We are just barely close enough to hear her words.

"I don't even have a program for this music. I must have saved it in the wrong playlist," she mutters. She spends a moment at the wall and then hesitantly presses a button on screen. She skates out into the center of the rink and strikes a pose that conveys despair, with her right arm pressed to her side and her face lined up with her left arm, which is extended gracefully from her body. The music isn't anything I recognize, but the piano chords are sad and quiet. She doesn't start moving immediately, waiting for the lyrics to start before starting to skate backwards and dance.

 _"Two A.M., where do I begin? Crying off my face again. The silent sound of loneliness, wants to follow me to bed."_  She pauses for a moment and then takes off around the rink, building up speed and improvising a step sequence.  _"I'm a ghost of a girl that I want to be most. I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well…"_

She jumps into a combination as the chorus begins. Quad flip, double loop, triple lutz.

 _"Dancing slowly in an empty room. Can the lonely take the place of you?"_  She starts to spin across the ice, entering another step sequence that keeps her at an unrelenting pace. Behind me, Yuuri sniffles, and I turn to look at him sharply. Tears are rolling down his face, but he can't seem to take his eyes off of the ice. Viktor's eyes are wide as he watches the routine, his phone still recording in his hands.

On the ice, Savannah is moving even faster now, throwing jump after jump into the routine- most of them quads. Her steps are becoming faster and more intricate, and her spins are few and far between, but it is a breathtaking performance nonetheless. She finally comes to a stop in the middle of the rink, clutching her fists to her chest and trembling. Yuuri has sat down, but Viktor seems frozen, staring at the teen on the ice. Savannah collapses to her knees in a coughing fit, her legs having given out underneath her. I start forward in concern, but once again a hand stops me from going, though this time it is Viktor's. I reluctantly step back. I suddenly notice a little boy running toward the gate to the rink and tug Viktor's sleeve. The man has put away his phone, but he is still watching the exhausted girl with a curious expression. At my persistent tugs, he follows my gaze to the small child and stiffens.

"Anya?" Savannah, despite her obvious exhaustion, is next to him within moments.

"Sacha! What are you doing here? Where's Elena?" Her voice is frightened as she pulls the little boy into a hug.

"She hurt her knee, and I was scared because you said you would be back a long time ago, so I came to get you," he says quietly. "I just wanted to help." Savannah mutters something into another hug and then pulls away and skates to get her things. When she steps off the ice, pulling on her blouse once again, I send a look at Viktor. The platinum haired man is staring at the ground thoughtfully, sending glances between Yuuri, Savannah, and I. Savannah leads the little boy over to the bleachers and climbs onto a bench near the three of us, sitting her brother down and starting to unlace her skates.

"Anya, when are we getting more food?" Yuuri gasps, and my eyes narrow. What does that mean?

"What do you mean, Sacha? Didn't you eat today?" Sacha nods, but keeps his gaze trained on the ground, kicking his feet back and forth slowly.

"Elena didn't," he says sadly. Savannah's head jolts up to stare at the boy.

"Why didn't she? We had food left, didn't we? Why didn't she eat some?" Viktor reaches over and grabs my arm, as if trying to hold me back, though I hadn't been moving at all.

"We only had one apple left, and she gave it to me and Aisha." I close my eyes and sigh softly. "Anya, didn't  _you_  have food today?"

"No, I haven't had anything to eat today, Sacha. But I'll give my dinner to Elena if it makes you feel better, okay?" Viktor's grip on my arm tightens, and I can feel him trembling with rage.

"What about you? You need food, too. You didn't eat yesterday either!" The little boy is frantic, his voice rising in fear. I turn away from the conversation and move backwards through the alcove, sitting in the very back.

"It's okay,  _dorogaya_ , I'm a big girl, remember? I don't need as much food as you do. And if Elena's knee is going to get better, she needs to eat up, right?" I wince, remembering the sight of her skin stretched so thinly over her ribs. Just how long has she gone without eating? Sacha mutters a response that I don't catch. I lower my head and stare at the ground, clasping my hands in front of me. "Cheer up, Sacha. I got a treat for us, Savannah says, an excited tone to her voice that doesn't sound completely fake.

"What is it?"

"It's  _Alenka_. It's chocolate."

"What's that?" I close my eyes and take a deep breath as anger rushes through me. What kind of child doesn't even know what chocolate is? Savannah's breathy, melodic laugh echoes through the rink.

"It's very good. It's a kind of candy. If you leave it on your tongue, it melts into a sweet syrup, and if you put some in a cup of warm milk, it makes hot chocolate," she says.

"Really?" Sacha sounds awed at his big sister's explanation of the sweet.

"Really, really." There is a short moment of silence, and then-

"Can we eat it now?"

"No. We have to go home first, remember? Elena and Aisha will want some, too."

"Let's go!" Several thumps occur in quick presession, and Savannah laughs once more, running after a small figure through the main door.

A heavy silence follows their exit. When I finally gather the courage to look up, I see Viktor clutching the railing behind him and glaring at the ground. Yuuri has silent tears rolling down his cheeks, and his lips are pressed to his closed fist. Without thinking, I stand and race after Savannah and Sacha, ignoring my coaches as they shout for me to come back. I stop when I reach the street, looking around to try and find the pair. I catch sight of them turning a corner to my left and sprint after them, weaving through the crowd agily. I turn the corner and freeze. They've disappeared. Slowly, I start walking between the brick walls, glancing around carefully for any sign of the vanishing teen.

There isn't much to see in this tiny alleyway. A large, fluffy cat rest on a dumpster, and a young girl is playing hopscotch at the very end, but there are no other signs of life.

"Careful, Sacha. Watch for the cracks."

I whip to the left, but still, no one is there. I stop and stare down the alley in confusion.

"Anya!"

"You're finally home?"

"Sorry I'm late, Elena. I… Got distracted." I growl in frustration and creep through the shadows again, trying to find the disembodied voice. "As it is, you let your brother get out. He got all the way to the ice rink. You know how dangerous that is, don't you?" The younger girl mutters a reply as I catch sight of a soft glow near the ground. I walk toward it briskly. There is a small, rectangular hole in the wall, about three feet above the ground.

"A-ya! A-ya!" I crouch and peer through the hole, peering past the dirty shards of broken glass, and my eyes widen at the sight. Savannah is standing in what looks like a tiny sitting room, with only a small kitchen behind her. On a ratty couch, a young girl- Elena, I presume -is glowering up at her sister. Sacha has run off somewhere, and a red haired toddler is waddling toward the teen, who has crouched with her arms open wide to receive her.

"Hi, Aisha! How are you today?" Savannah asks with a smile, scooping the little girl up into her arms. Aisha wraps her arms around Savannah's neck.

"Hung'y," she says. Savannah sighs.

"I know, sweetheart. I know. I'm going shopping tomorrow, okay? Do you think you can be hungry just for tonight?"

Aisha pouts, but nods. "Wan' down! Wan' down!" She wiggles in Savannah's grasp until she is set back on the floor, when she wanders over to the fire and sits down on a thick blanket. A small, ratty poodle is in her arms quickly, and her large, olive shaped eyes fixed on the flickering flames. I notice the dirt and ash smudged across her cheeks, making her look darker than she is, and the bruises, scrapes and cuts littering her arms and legs. I stumble back in horror, nausea blossoming in my gut. I turn and run away, not stopping until I am back in my apartment and seated on my bed. Tears are racing down my cheeks, and a sob forces its way out of my throat.

Is that it then? Is that what it's like on the streets? And I know it's not just Savannah- hundreds of people around the world live in similar or worse conditions. It makes me grateful for all I have, but despite the unfeeling mask I try to put up, even I have my weaknesses. This, apparently, is one of them. Potya jumps up on the bed and meows timidly, as if she's concerned. I uncurl a hand and she practically leaps into my lap, pressing against me and purring loudly. My sobs calm to soft sniffles as I snuggle the fluffy cat.

"Oh, Potya. We're really lucky, you know that?" Potya reaches up and presses a paw to my cheek, meowing again. I sigh and pull out my phone, pulling up my messages with Otabek in silence. A short clip of him landing a quad salchow greets me, but I ignore it, my thumbs hovering over the buttons on the keypad for a moment before I type out a short message.

_To Beka 3: Skype?_

_From Beka 3: Now?_

_To Beka 3: please_

I pull open my laptop, trying to save my appearance for my boyfriend before he sees me. After a moment, I realize that my attempts are fruitless and give up, resigning myself to greasy, knotted hair and a tear-stained face. The call comes through, and I waste no time answering it.

The large smile on Otabek's face falls into a serious frown the second he sees me. "Yura? Are you okay?" I nod, hesitate, and then shrug. "What's happened?" I start to answer, but choke up and turn away for a moment before I start again.

"D-Do you remember Savannah Collins?" I ask quietly.

Otabek nods slowly. "That skater who went missing a few years back? Yeah," he says.

"I found her." I pull Potya even closer to my chest than she is already, and she purrs loudly. Otabek's eyes widen dramatically.

"In Saint Petersburg? How?"

I shrug again. "She works at the ice rink," I say half-heartedly.

"Okay… So why are you crying?"

I take a deep breath and look at the grainy image of Otabek on the screen. "Otabek, I-... I watched her skate again, with Katsudon and the old man, and… She seemed so lonely. She's only gotten better than she was in the Junior's. She could win, but she's… She's starving, Beka. She took her shirt off to skate, and you can see every single one of her ribs." Tears start to fill my eyes again. "A-and her little brother ran away from home to get her. Beka, all he'd had to eat today was half of an apple. He couldn't have been more than five years old. He didn't even know what chocolate is! I followed her home afterwards, to talk to her, but I couldn't find her except for a broken window near the ground. They're in a tiny little apartment made of stone. Can you imagine how cold it gets in the winter, Beks? And she has two little sisters. One of them is a little toddler, and she-" I choke off and look down at my bed, refusing to meet Otabek's eyes.

"Oh, Yura… Hey, will you look at me?" I look up through my bangs. Otabek is smiling softly at me through the screen. "You know I wish more than anything that I could be over there for you right now, kitten. Are you… Do you think you can hold out for a week or two?"

I look at him in confusion. "What?"

"I'll get tickets to come to Saint Petersburg soon, okay? Just hold on until I get there," he says softly. Despite myself, a small smile graces my lips.

"Really?" I ask in a whisper. Otabek grins.

"Of course, kitten. Why would I lie to you?"

I chuckle humorlessly and we fall into a comfortable silence. "Thanks, Beka," I whisper. "It means a lot."

"In the meantime, why don't you find a way to help her?" he suggests. I shrug.

"I wouldn't know how," I say.

Otabek shifts, and the screen freezes for a moment before he settles. "Well, you said they don't have enough to eat, right?" I nod. "So make them some of your grandfather's pirozhki, maybe." I pause for a moment and ponder the idea.

"Yeah… I think I'll do that," I say. "Thanks, Beka." With my problem temporarily solved, we move on to talking about other things. Neatly three hours later, however, my exhaustion overcomes me, and my world fades to black as Otabek softly tells me a story about his little sister.

**~oXo~Time Skip Brought To You By A Lazy Author~oXo~**

I walk into the ice rink, staring at my shoes as they scuff over the tiled floors. My gym bag is slung over my shoulder, and my headphones are playing the music for my short program loudly. I turn into the front office and slap my pass on the counter without looking up. My thoughts are still consumed by all I learned last night, and I'm having trouble focusing because of it. I snap out of my thoughts when a hand waves in front of my eyes. I pull off my headphones and look up at the counter. Savannah is staring at me with a frown on her face.

"You alright, goldilocks?" she asks. I hesitate and then glare, putting my mask back up.

"I'm fine,  _baka_ ," I snarl. Savannah raises an eyebrow, but backs off.

"Alright." She returns to the pass, leaving me to mull in my thoughts. She finishes quickly and pushes it back to me, still watching me carefully. I hoist my bag higher on my shoulder and walk out to the rink without sending a glance over my shoulder. I quickly lace up my skates and glide out onto the ice, carving grooves into the surface as I take a lap at top speed. No one else is in the rink yet, so I take my speakers and phone out of my bag and plug them in. 'It Has Begun' by Starset fills the rink, and I begin my routine, trying to focus and failing miserably. I huff when the music ends and skate over to my phone to turn on loop, skating back out to the middle of the rink. The music starts, and I skate backwards, moving my arms gently in front of me. I jump, landing right when I'm supposed to, but falling hard onto the ice. I slam my fist down on my thigh as I stand and move back into the routine, anger clouding my mind. It isn't until my third failed salchow that another voice enters the rink.

"I don't think you're fine." I turn and glare at Savannah. She returns it with a level stare. "How is it that someone who could land that jump without breaking a sweat yesterday is suddenly unable to decide how to land it at all?" I notice she is wearing her skates, and she skates over to me, stopping just in front of me and placing a hand on a cocked hip.

"Shouldn't you be handing out skates or something?" I snap. Savannah glares at me.

"I have an early class," she says calmly. "Now about those jumps. You-"

"-Don't need advice from you." Silence fills the rink, with the two of us staring each other down. Savannah's gaze is suddenly icy.

"Turn off the music and listen to me,  _baka_ ," she says, doing a cruel imitation of my voice on the last word. "If you can't focus, you could seriously hurt yourself. Maybe even badly enough to end your career. Your coaches called to say that they won't be coming in today. What are they going to do if they come back to an injured student?" My eyes are wide, and I stare at her in mild shock and annoyance. After a few minutes of a glare-off, the corner of my mouth twitches upward into an involuntary grin that I immediately wipe off of my face. I can tell she noticed it though, because her glare softens. I turn off my music and bow to her mockingly.

"What shall I do now, your majesty?" I ask sarcastically. Savannah smirks and lifts her chin high.

"Do the jump properly, peasant." I roll my eyes, but move into position for the jump. I launch off of the ice, land, and crash down on my left shoulder. I lift myself up, wincing from embarrassment and pain, but a hand appears in front of me. I look up in surprise. Savannah is standing in front of me with her arm extended and a small smile on her face. I begrudgingly take her hand and allow her to help me up, pulling away and glowering at my feet the second I'm standing. "You know what you did wrong, right?"

I begin to answer, but snap my jaw shut and deepen my glare when I realize that no, I don't. Savannah laughs. "You're jumping for a flip, but you're trying to land for a salchow. See the problem?"

I roll my eyes again. "Yes, I do," I grumble.

"Good. Do it again."

I snort with contempt, but reluctantly move into position for a salchow again. This time when I land I stay up, gliding smoothly into a final rotation and coming to a stop in front of Savannah. I raise an eyebrow and cock my hip, folding my arms over my chest. "Good enough, coach?" The girl smiles and skates backwards slowly.

"Much better," she says quietly. We fall into a slightly awkward silence, not meeting each others eyes.

I am starting to regret my actions last night. What kind of person am I to follow someone home and listen in on her life? I can only imagine what my grandfather would say. And what of Savannah herself? She'd probably think I'm some kind of creepy stalker, or- or-

"Hey, what's wrong?" I blink and shake my head, looking at Savannah with wide eyes. She glides back a bit, wincing slightly. "Sorry. I-I just-" she pauses for a moment, and then takes a deep breath and continues. "Look, I know we've only just met, but I'm here for you okay? I, uh, I can tell when something's wrong with people, most of the time, and you seem really out of it today. Do you- Do you want to talk?" She looks hesitant, and her icy blue eyes are flicking around the rink, looking at anything but me.

I look down at the ice, trying to come up with a believable excuse. A few moments pass before I think of something. "My boyfriend is coming to town," I say. "I guess I'm just excited." I glance up and meet Savannah's gaze. Her eyes are sparkling.

"Really? Where is he coming from?" she asks. The corners of my mouth twitch upwards into a small smile.

"He lives just outside of Almaty." Savannah looks confused, so I explain a bit more. "It's in Kazakhstan?" Her eyes widen almost comically and she nods.

"Is that all then?" she asks. I start to nod, but pause.

Do I tell her? Ethically, yes I should. But realistically? Of course I won't. I smile at her and nod firmly, and she grins.

"Well, I'll be waiting to meet him then," she says. "Oh! I never got your-"

"Anya!" Savannah gets cut off halfway through her sentence when a small voice shouts across the rink. We both turn and look at the little girl who has skated onto the ice. She is wobbling from side to side, trying to keep her balance. Savannah rolls her eyes at me and waves, skating toward the little girl and steadying her. I watch her for a moment before I turn back to my radio and turn on the song I wanted to use for my free skate.

More children arrive before long, trying to keep their balance as I skate easily, trying to map out some rough choreography. I hear Savannah shouting instructions to the kids, and their high-pitched squeals invade my thoughts every few seconds. I launch myself into a combination jump, but over-rotate on the last triple, touching down on the ice. I let out a sound of frustration and skate over to my speakers. The song doesn't sound right anymore. I pause the music and take a drink out of my jeweled tiger print water bottle, checking my notifications on my phone while I sip. I have a new text from Otabek, and I open it quickly.

_From Beka 3: How is it going?_

I quickly type a reply and send it before placing my phone back on the wall of the rink.

_To Beka 3: It's not. I don't know what to say to her._

I start to take laps around the rink, picking up speed and turning sharply, weaving in and out of people. The rink is filling slowly but steadily as more and more people rent out skates and join the crowds. I flip around with a quick waltz jump and start skating backwards without changing speed, angling my head slightly so I can still move around people. Eventually, the crowd becomes thick enough that I move to the clear space in the middle to practice me jumps. Applause erupts after I land a quad-triple combo and I move back into the crowd.

Savannah and I catch glimpses of each other every now and again, but she is always helping her students, and I don't ever feel like stopping to chat.

It takes hours for the crowd to die down again, and by that time I have become overly frustrated with myself. The song I have chosen no longer feels right, and my body is covered in yellow splotches that I know will be dark bruises by tomorrow. I skate over to the barrier and grab my phone, turning on a playlist as I connect it to my speakers. The sounds of heavy guitars and drums fills the rink, and I move to the middle of the ice to skate off my anger. The last little kids leave a few songs later, and Savannah skates my direction.

"So," she says, "it's closing time, but I'm planning on staying a little longer. Care to join me?" I give her a long, calculating look, and nod sharply. Savannah grins. "Great!" She tilts her head, and we move toward the gate. I only remember to retrieve my phone at the last minute as we pass it. We put on our skate guards and walk toward the office, where she fiddles with a few things and turns off the lights outside, including the blinking neon open sign.

"Want anything before I completely shut down?" she asks. I shake my head and type out a text to Beka, grinning softly at his last message.

"I'm okay." There is silence for a moment, and then-

"That boy of yours must be quite the catch."

I look up with a frown. "Wha-"

"I've been fighting tooth and nail to get you to smile for the past two days, and all I've gotten is a smirk. He's not even here and you're grinning like a lovestruck idiot." I reel backwards, my eyes widening for a moment before a scowl overtakes my features and I start to snap back a retort. "You don't need to get snippy about it. If anything, you should smile more often. It looks good on you." With a slam, the concessions window's gate comes down between us and I am left staring at a wall of glinting silver. I stand on the concrete for a few minutes alone, and she finally appears around the wall with a bag on her shoulder. We go back to the ice and take off our guards again, starting a few lazy circles.

"You're not very talkative, are you?"

"Why should I be? Everyone else talks more than enough to make up for my absence," I say. Savannah laughs.

"Very true," she says. "It's a lonely life, though. I would know."

"You would, wouldn't you?" I turn to look at her, skating backwards. Savannah starts, but then her face relaxes into a sad smile.

"How long have you known?" she asks.

I shake my head. "Since last night," I say. "My coaches and I stayed back to keep practicing, and we ended up watching you skate."

Savannah raises an eyebrow at me and folds her arms over her chest. "From what I remember of you, Yuri, you were never a stalker."

Now it's my turn to stare. Savannah rolls her eyes.

"Please. You don't think I would recognize you? I spent two years of my life kicking your ass. I know what you look like when you skate," she laughs. She comes to a stop next to the barrier, and I do the same.

"Why pretend, though?" I ask. Finally, Savannah looks mildly uncomfortable.

"I didn't want to distract you with the season coming up so fast," she says quietly, shrugging. I roll my eyes and glare at her.

"Distract me? Really?" Silence falls between us. "Why aren't you competing anymore?" I ask finally.

"I have to take care of my siblings. The police don't care what we do. The orphanages are too full to take us in, and none of them have died yet, so as long as they don't, they get to stay with me. Competing would move me around too much. And I-" she cuts off for a moment and looks down. "-I'm not strong enough anymore. Yuri, I don't get enough to eat. If you watched me skate yesterday then you already know that. I don't have the stamina or the strength that I need to keep up with all of the world-class skaters like you and Viktor. There's no way I could compete."

"But do you  _want_  to?" I ask softly.

Savannah looks up with tears in her eyes. "Of course I do! Gods, yes! I miss it everyday, Yuri, but my family has to come first."

I watch her for a long while. "About a year ago," I say, "my Grandpa passed away and I had to move in with Viktor and Yuuri full time."

"Yuri, I-"

"There wasn't anything to be done- It was Ischemic heart disease. It shouldn't have killed him, but he had a heart attack because of it." Savannah reaches over and sets her hand on my arm, but I brush it off and shake my head. "I wasn't home at the time. I came home to him on the kitchen floor. I called the ambulance, but by the time they got there, it was too late. Viktor and Yuuri took me in, but there were problems with the court concerning the legality of it. Technically, my parents are still alive, so I should have gone to them, but Yuuri fought tooth and nail to keep me. Viktor covered the social media aspect. Somehow, a bunch of figure skating blogs had caught wind of it, so Viktor was trying to keep my life at least partially private at this point. I hadn't seen my parents since they left me with Grandpa, and suddenly I was supposed to just walk back to them quietly? After everything they'd done… I was supposed to simply forgive them and place all of my trust in them again? They eventually signed me over to Viktor and Yuuri. They helped me with everything. They took care of Grandpa's funeral, the house, getting me moved. They even remodeled an entire room in their house for me."

"Cat print everything, obviously," Savannah says quietly. I send her a soft smile.

"The first few months were hard. My friend Mila got in an accident that put her out of competition, and I felt lonely and lost. My Grandpa had always been there for me. When I'd had a hard day training, I could go to him, and he would be there. And suddenly… he was gone. I didn't have any inspiration, and I nearly dropped out of last season. Beka helped a lot. He kind of… forced himself into my life, I guess? He picked me up, set me back on the ice, and told me to skate in a way that would make my Grandpa proud. I got silver in the Grand Prix. I lost to Yuuri by two points, but I beat Viktor. And now that they've retired, they've decided to coach me." I turn to her and give her a fierce look. "I think you should come back. We can choreograph a routine after hours. You won't have to miss any work. You could win, Savannah. I know you could. And besides, the money for placing will be more than enough to sustain your family for a while."

"Yuri…" Savannah sighs and starts skating slowly away. I follow her. "I can't leave my siblings. It would be too much travel. They would be alone for too long. I can't put that kind of pressure on Elena. And besides," she says softly, "I wouldn't win. You know that. My skills have deteriorated too much and my stamina and strength are nothing like what they used to be."

"You can still jump, can't you? We'll choreograph a piece that plays for your strengths. And I'm sure Yakov and Lilia will help with your siblings. And if they can't watch them I'll make Mila do it," I say determinedly. "And you  _can_  win, Anya. It'll take a lot of work, obviously, but you can do it. I know you can. You won the Junior Grand Prix and the Junior Worlds twice, and you think you couldn't?"

"Yuri-"

"I can help you. I can help you choreograph a routine. You can pick out a theme, we can find some music, and then we'll choreograph. We'll work on it everyday. You work here, so you get free entrance to the rink whenever you want, right? We can do this, Savannah. And even if you don't end up entering this season, you'll have something new to skate, right?" I turn to look at the redhead. She is biting her lip hard enough that a bead of blood is forming on the stretched skin. Her gaze is trained on the ground, and her hair is falling in front of her face, half blocking it from view. A few minutes pass in silence.

"Okay," she says finally. "Let's do it." I grin, but she holds up a finger to keep me from talking just yet. "I'm not promising to enter the season, but we can work on a routine." She turns to me with shining eyes and an ear-splitting smile. "Thank you," she whispers. I grin and nod at her.

"Of course," I say.

"I don't know about a theme, but I do have a song I've been wanting to skate to for a while," she says excitedly. Before I can blink, she's gone. I turn and see her next to the barrier, looking at something on her phone. I speed over to her just as she plugs the device into her speakers and starts a song. A clear female voice floods the rink, with high, staggering violin behind her.

I can't help but stare at Savannah slightly. She's always loved rock and EDM. It was the only reason I talked to her at first. We shared a similar music taste. This song is sweet and lilting. Nothing like what I had once known from her. We stand in silence, listening. The song is edited to be shorter than it really is- or so I assume. My eyes narrow when the beat drops in the chorus.  _That's more like it._

The song ends, and Savannah turns to me with an inquisitive look in her eyes. I nod. "I like it a lot. Are you sure you want to do that one?"

Savannah nods happily. "Absolutely," she says. I ask her to play it again, and she pulls a notebook and pen out of her gym bag, leaning over the barrier to get to it. The notebook has seen better days, and the pages are filled with scribbles, notes, and choreography. She finds a blank page and writes the title of the song-  _Shatter Me._  I lean over and point at the page.

"We're utilizing that Quad Flip," I say. "What other ones do you know again?"

"Um… Salchow, Toe Loop, and Lutz," she responds distractedly, already mapping out a bit for the beginning of the routine. I nod again and reach over to snatch the pen from her hand, scribbling out a note and writing something over it. Savannah's eyes widen and her mouth drops into an  _'O'_  shape. She nods and writes something else next to it. I grin.

"Let's try just this much with the music," I say. She salutes me and skates out the center of the rink. I turn on the music, and she spins her arms around her before dipping into a low bow and rising with one arm curved delicately above her. She strikes out, skating backwards in a wide circle on her right foot and flicking her wrists in the direction of where the audience would be, conveying loneliness and vulnerability with even those simple movements. She moves into a step sequence, crossing her feet, spinning, and gliding. It is beautiful for all of four seconds- when she trips and crashes to the ice. I chuckle and skate out to her. She is sprawled on her back, her eyes closed and her chest heaving.

"Are you getting up?" I ask. Suddenly, her icy eyes snap open and she gasps loudly.

"I've died!" she wails dramatically. She throws her arm over her face and I burst into laughter.

"Get up!" I say, trying to suppress my chuckles.

Savannah grins up at me. "Is that all it took to get you to laugh? Damn, you used to be so easy to hang out with. What happened?" I roll my eyes and skate a little away, shooting her a significant look as she gets up. "Right. Don't answer that."

We spend the next two hours working up a step sequence of beauty, and we both work up a good sweat and a few bruises. Eventually, though, Savannah figures out the steps, and we both decide to call it a night. We grab our bags and change into our shoes in silence, and together we walk out into the dark street, staying close to the doors of the rink to avoid the crowds while Savannah locks up. As soon as she's finished, we step into the sea of people and weave our way through the people.

"Where are you going?" she asks. I roll my eyes at her.

"With you," I say. For a moment, she looks like she's going to protest, but then someone steps between us and I lose her to the mess. I meet her again at the mouth of the alleyway, where she is waiting for me, pale and nervous-looking. I send her a soft smile and we walk down the alley. She suddenly reaches out and grabs my arm.

"B-before you come in," she says quietly, "you should know a few things." There is a heavy pause while I wait for her to continue. "Elena… Elena still remembers you, and I don't think she likes you much, so she might be a bit rude. Sacha is likely to try and play all sorts of games with you, but if you're uncomfortable, that's fine. Just ask him to stop. Vikya will latch onto you and won't let you go unless you pry her off of you. There's not much to do on that front. She's only three. I want to apologize in advance, because you know, they don't know any better, and I know you don't particularly enjoy-"

"Savannah," I interrupt. Her blue eyes widen and she looks up at me, flustered. "It's fine. Don't worry." With hesitation clear in the way she bites her lip and glances at the ground, the redhead nods and leads me over to a small alcove. We walk down a few crumbling stone steps and reach a rickety wooden door. With a deep breath, Savannah opens the door and steps into her home with me following behind her.

"Elena! Sacha! Vikya! I'm home!" Before she manages to finish her sentence, the pitter-patter of small feet running down the stone hallway reaches my ears. A little boy appears from the darkness and jumps into his sisters waiting arms.

"Anya!" he cries.

Savannah smiles and holds him tightly as a small girl comes around the corner. "Hello, Sacha," she chuckles.

The little girl stops in front of her and pouts, reaching up to make grabbing motions at Savannah. "Up! Up!" she says. Savannah scoops her up too, and manages to hobble her way over in front of the fireplace, where she sits down and places the kids on either side of her. For the first time, they notice me. The little girl, whom I assume is Viktoria, freezes, her emerald green eyes wide. "Who that?" One small finger comes up to point at me accusingly. Sacha's head shoots around to stare at me. Suddenly, a huge grin breaks out on his face and he jumps to his feet and sprints toward me. I barely catch him as he takes a giant leap into me arms.

"Are you Anya's friend?" he asks with a laugh. I wince internally, but force a smile for the little boy.

"Yes, I am. You must be little Alexandrovic. I've heard quite a bit about you," I say. Blue eyes widen and a small, pale hand reaches out to pat my cheek as I adjust my grip on him, setting him on my hip to carry him more comfortably.

"You're so pretty!" he gasps.

I grin and give a passable excuse for a hug. "Thank you," I say. Savannah waves me forward and calls for Elena again, and I set Sacha back on the ground and pick up my bag. Slow, halting footsteps sound from the hallway, and a pre-teen girl appears in the entrance. Her hair is covering half of her face, but the one brown eye I can see narrows in hostility the second she catches sight of me.

"Hello, Elena," I say quietly. The girl in question only scowls at me and limps over to the fireplace, flopping down on the blankets in front of the roaring flames. I clear my throat awkwardly and sit down near Savannah. "I, uh, brought something." I open my bag and pull out a large container of pirozhki that I had made that morning. Elena's eyes widen, and Viktoria immediately waddles over to me and sits heavily in my lap, reaching for the food with grabby hands.

Savannah stares at me in surprise. "Yuri… You didn't have to-"

"I know," I say. "But I wanted to, so…" I pull the lid off of the tupperware and hand one of the meat-filled buns to Viktoria. The young girl stares at it in awe for only a moment before she takes a large bite. I grin when she kicks her legs in delight and squeals as she chews. Sacha eagerly takes one and immediately bites into it, his face bright red as he watches me for my reaction. I hold the container out to Elena, who cautiously grabs one off the top of the pile and then only holds it, watching me suspiciously. When I turn to offer one to Savannah, however, she politely turns it away.

"I'll eat when they've finished," she says. I roll my eyes and slap a pirozhki into her hand.

"Don't be stupid," I growl. "You have to eat if we're getting you back in shape." Savannah's eyes sparkle teasingly as she chuckles and begins to eat the meat bun. I hear a whine and turn to see Vikya reaching desperately for another bun. I bring the container back to her and hand her another one. The little girl sends a smile my way and suddenly snuggles closer to me, tucking into my chest and eating her food. Sacha sits next to Elena in front of the fire, grinning as he, too, continues to eat.

"So, Yuri," Savannah suddenly says, sounding hesitant. I raise an eyebrow her direction. "If this is something we're going to do, I'm going to have to bring these guys to the rink sometimes. Is… Is that okay?"

I look at her quizzically. "Of course," I say. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I just… I don't know. I'm nervous, I guess."

"Why?"

"No reason. Wouldn't you be?" Savannah's flinty blue gaze is fixed on my own. I twist my expression into a fierce glare and return he stare with just as much fervor. What feels like hours later, she blinks and shakes her head. "Damn. Still got it, don't you?" I smirk and turn back to my food.

**~oXo~Time skip because I suck~oXo~**

Hours later, when I've finally returned to the apartment, I send out a quick text to Otabek.

_To Beka 3: Thanks for helping me out. I needed that. Miss you!_

I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. I miss my grandfather, that much is true, and I miss my boyfriend, too. I may not be able to get grandpa back, but I can hold on to Beka with all I've got.

With a soft sigh, I grab the large teddy bear on the other side of my bed and pull it to my chest, burying my face in it's soft plush. I smile into its fur as I remember that Beka is coming to St. Petersburg soon. I think of all the things we can do together- I can introduce him to Savannah, and cross my fingers that they get along. My mind drifts through multiple subjects, but eventually lands on one thing- Savannah's programs.

What about her theme?  _Return_ , I think, would be a good one, but from what I remember of my friend, she was never one to use something that simple. And besides, that theme is overused and cliche. I think about the song she chose. The lyrics echo in my mind, and I try to imagine a routine to put to them. The step sequence would be beautiful and complex, and the jumps landing perfectly on the beat. I can image the routine, and I scramble out of bed to write down my ideas before I forget them. I know that Savannah can't compete without an official coach, and I don't have the skill set nor patience required to be that. But who do I know who does? Viktor, certainly, and-

My eyes widen. Why didn't I think of it before? Gods, I'm so stupid! I quickly scrawl down the last of my ideas and snatch up my phone, punching in a familiar number and impatiently waiting for the recipient to pick up.

_"Yuri? Do you have any idea what time it is?"_

"Listen, Pig. I need a favor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was it?
> 
> I'm not going to tell you that my mental health was bad for a while or whatever, or try to make excuses for not updating. Here's what's happened.
> 
> 1) I realized I suck at keeping promises
> 
> 2) I'm lazy
> 
> 3) Choir
> 
> 4) Schoolwork and early morning classes
> 
> 5) Choir
> 
> 6) I'm REALLY lazy
> 
> So there we go. For another question, though. Would you guys prefer longer chapters but less frequent updates, or shorter chapters with more frequent updates? Again, it's your choice, and I'll do whatever gets the most votes.
> 
> Enjoy your holidays, stay safe, stay sober, stay happy!

**Author's Note:**

> There we go! See you next week, my Tulips, and please check out my Tumblr found here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/blondephangirl  
> Remember to comment and let me know what your thoughts are!  
> Dasvidaniya!


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